


Burn

by blakefancier



Category: Drake's Venture (1980)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas belongs to his Captain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

Thomas feels the burn of desire long before Drake touches him. His skin hungers as Drake's gaze strips away all defenses.

Fingers. Drake's fingers presses against the back of his neck and he shudders.

"No. Francis, no," he whispers, but does not fight as his night shirt is lifted over his head and tossed aside. This is what will happen to him when they return to England

Drake pushes him onto the bed, holds his still, steady, presses his face into the pillow to stop the words that issue from his lips. 'I do not want. Francis, stop. This is a sin. Oh, God, stop.'Only when he quiets does the pressure ease. Drake's breath ghosts against his back and he shudders.

Waits.

The feel of Drake's lips on his back, beard rasping against his skin sends a shock through him. He moans softly, clenching the bedclothes. He does his best to keep still, but when Drake's tongue slides along one of the scars on his back, he thrusts his hips against the bed and keens.

The chastisement is swift; Drake brings his hand down upon his buttocks and the sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the cabin

It is an embarrassment, but it does nothing to abate his arousal. Indeed, his prick hardens further.

When his buttocks are hot, as hot as his face, and heavy with pain, Drake stops. He slides his hands up Thomas's thighs, parting them. The first few times, he fought, but now he finds that he is eagerly awaiting what is next.

Drake's fingers press against him, and he pushes back, greedily taking them into his body. He hears the rumours whispered about him, that he is Drake's whore, and in the light of day, they rankle. But here, in their cabin, in the soft glow of candlelight, he knows it to be true.

Drake commands this of him, and he obeys.

Fingers are replaced by something heavier, thicker. He groans, hips rising to meet the invasion. The Captain-General's weapon sliding into him again and again, bringing him closer to death with every thrust.

It could not be otherwise.

He cries out Drake's name, then presses his face into the pillow to quiet his pleas for more. Drake's whore.

Drake's.

When Drake spills into his body, his own arousal reaches its limit. In that moment, it feels as if they are one. Only when he is alone, sprawled out on the bed, does Thomas realize it is a ridiculous sentiment.


End file.
